


Kind of Like Snoring

by Clockwork



Series: Skyjacked [3]
Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Fluffy, Gen, fluffy cuteness, skyjackers, working up to porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:45:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3515813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clockwork/pseuds/Clockwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caine has trouble sleeping when he isn't close enough to his commander, and isn't above stalking type moments including breaking and entering. Mostly general moments and cute fluffiness of Caine being Stinger's pup.</p><p>Random part of my "Skyjacked" series</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kind of Like Snoring

Life as a skyjacker wasn’t easy but anyone surprised by that hasn’t been paying attention. It was never designed to be easy, starting with the moment a candidate found themselves selected for splicing and going right up until, likely, the moment you died and they buried you, quite literally, with your boots on. 

A skyjacker couldn’t afford to be weak hearted, easily frightened, in need of a lot of privacy, or as Stinger was coming to find out, homophobic. Not when you had a six foot and change splice hanging over your shoulder no matter what you did, or where you went, looking damned broody and like he was about to murder someone just for breathing too loudly in Stinger’s presence. Not that most seemed to notice.

Ever since Stinger had told the pup he would make sure he was okay and his needs were taken care of, the kid hadn’t moved further than five steps off Stinger’s shoulder except when he was demanded to stay, or when Stinger ordered him back to his bunk for the night. Even then he woke up more mornings than not with Caine standing just outside his door, dressed and armed and damned if Stinger even knew if he’d ever gotten any sleep. So long as he didn’t pass out in the middle of a mission, he would let the kid do what he needed to, but now he found himself watching for more than the signs of aggression or the subtle needful moments when he was seeking that touch and comfort that he didn’t know to ask for.

It never occurred to Stinger than in offering those things to Caine that the boy would end up reacting in this way. He thought like a soldier, like one sent to guide and instruct, to hold together the hive structure that came with a unit such as the Skyjackers he was assigned to. He viewed them all, even the wolf without a pack, as one of his men and seeing they were at optimal performance was what mattered the most, and Caine’s closer attention didn’t seem to affect him doing his job to the best of his ability. 

In fact, it seemed to heighten his attention, bring him to a sharper focus wherein his world became narrowed to a pinpoint that meant a better shot and a cleaner kill. With that attachment Caine seemed to grow into the soldier he was designed to be, and if the only unexpected behavior was the way he constantly put himself at Stinger’s right side, day and night, without much of a sound, so be it.

Or at least that was what Stinger told himself despite the odd looks he got sometimes, or the way some of the men whispered. He put a quick stop to that, though his methods might not have been the kindest, or even the best way of handling it.

“Keep it up. When Caine finally hears you, I’m looking the other way. Especially for anyone that has prey splices,” he would add, turning away then. 

That shut them up quick. They respected Stinger as their commander, but they didn’t fear him. Caine with his dark stare and stoic expression was another story. Not that Stinger saw it. He didn’t fear the boy and his sliced genetics that left him aloof and distant from the other. 

Not even the night he woke up sometime in the wee morning hours to take a leak and nearly tripped over a body laying at the foot of his bed. 

Caine yelped. Stinger cursed in two languages, one of which only his own kind could understand… and some of the furry bastards might have combusted hearing those words. 

“What the hell are you doing, Caine?”

Caine. Not pup. The boy must have known Stinger was angry then because he whined, shifting to sit up, scooting back until his back hit the bed frame.

“Well? Words, not whines.”

“I was sleeping, Sir.”

Okay maybe that had been an obvious answer that Stinger’s still sleep dusted mind wasn’t putting together. Except one thing hit him. Caine had been sleeping. Deep enough that he hadn’t realized that Stinger was up and moving. Huh. That was… not something he wanted to think about.

“Why are you in here? Better yet,” he said, peering at the boy through the dim light of the room. “How are you in here? I always lock the door.”

“They’re not that secure, Sir. I can recommend a much secure system. Or, if you’ll allow me, I can offer my services to ensure your protection.”

“By sleeping at the foot of my bed?”

“If that is what’s needed, Sir, then yes.”

He was being formal, more so than he usually was when they were alone.

“You stay right there. Understand me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Caine was not doing this without taking a piss. Then he got a drink of water, moving to turn on the lamp on his side table before moving to drop down on the bed. It was too damn early for this, but he’d be damned if he not be there for Caine when he needed it. 

“Okay, pup. Come ‘ere,” he said, patting the mattress next to him. 

The boy moved with speed for his build, pressing in against Caine’s side and looking up at him with those damned green eyes. It shouldn’t have been as calming as it was, but that position was becoming second nature, the boy showing up at his door more nights than not.

“Why’d you br…” He made himself stop, not wanting to put him on the defensive. “Why’d you come in?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, gaze lowering, staring at the door. “So I was outside, but then I heard you making that sound you make when you sleep, and it was relaxing. So I came in to make it easier to hear.”

Logical enough for stalker behavior, Stinger supposed. Though that did lead to a question. “What sound?”

Caine stared at him for a minute, not sure if the man honestly didn’t know, or if he just wanted to see if he could get the new guy to imitate the sound for him. He finally just shrugged. “It’s kind of like… snoring.”

“Snoring?”

He nodded, jerking one shoulder. “Yeah, like that. Just kind of low and rumbling.”

Again Stinger repeated after him. “Low and rumbling?”

Caine rolled his eyes, realizing that Stinger was not going to let this go. 

“You buzz. Okay? You buzz in your sleep.”

That was not something anyone’d had the guts to tell him before. 

“So you heard me doing this sound, this buzzing, and so you picked the lock on my door, crept in and curled up at the foot of my bed? I’m getting this right, pup?”

“When you put it like that it just sounds dumb,” he muttered.

“I could have broken one of your wings,” he pointed out. “So it kind of was dumb. No offense, pup.”

He bristled but he didn’t argue. Thank some deities for small favors. 

“You know you can’t keep doing this right? You need to get sleep. I can’t have you sleep deprived because you’re…” Stinger wasn’t even sure what to call it, how he should think about how the boy was acting. Sure he’d put himself in position to be some sort of alpha figure to the kid but he hadn’t expected this kind of devotion. Nor what to do about it. 

“Listen, the others find out you’re sleeping in here, there’s going to be hell to pay from the others.”

Not that he was sure he cared. If it kept his unit together, that was all that mattered, right?

“Maybe just… sometimes?” His tones were light, that soft whisper, nearly wheedling. If Stinger hadn’t known better he’d have thought it was the vocal equivalent of puppy eyes. Dammit.

“Sometimes what?” He shouldn’t ask. It was a dumb thing to even entertain. He should kick him out, order him to stay in his room and handle it by an iron fist with no velvet glove. Instead he’d asked that.

“Just sometimes stay here. Sleeping where I was. I was actually asleep, Sir.”

Yeah, this was a damned bad idea. Stinger knew it. Except he had been looking into the boy’s genetics. That alertness, even during sleep, was one of the reasons wolves made good splices for soldiers like Caine. What did they care if the boy burned out. They’d find another runt, another splice would replace him and life would go on. Unless Stinger put his soldiers before his pride. 

“Fine. I’ll set the nights, tell you when. We’ll base it on missions and deployments. I say no, you stay in your bunk and sleep there. Got it?”

Caine’s head lifted, eyes bright as he nodded eagerly, the frosted tips of his hair shifting with the rapid movement. “Yessir. Understood. Thank you, Sir.”

They both stared at one another for a long time before Caine finally whispered. “And tonight, Sir?”

Damn but this was not going to get any easier. Stinger shook his head, taking the boy by the back of his neck and giving him a shove to the far side of the bunk, up against the wall. “Go to sleep, pup. I’m not risking stepping on you in the morning,” he said, laying back on the edge of the mattress. 

The kid didn’t move for a long time, and Stinger figured he was afraid to move, afraid that Stinger would change his mind and chuck him out. After a time, just as Stinger was drifting off, he felt movement. Shifting as the mattress dipped and shifted. A moment later he felt the tip of Caine’s nose brushing his shoulder, the soft, even breathing of the pup showing he wasn’t even awake anymore. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, pup,” he muttered softly, letting himself drift off to sleep.


End file.
